Mourning, Mornings and Mimosas
by LosingInTranslation
Summary: From the glimmers of grief, Grissom begins to see a possible light in the worst darkness of his life. GSR COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

_**RATING:**_ M for Mature (adult situations)

_**SPOILERS:**_ Through the US Aired Episodes

_**PAIRINGS:**_ GSR

_**STATUS:**_ WIP (1 of 4)

_**SUMMARY:**_ From the glimmers of grief, Grissom begins to see a possible light in the worst darkness of his life.

_**A/N:**_ Okay, this started out as a baby bunny, but it has now worked up into a surly goth teenager bunny cutting it's teeth on my brain. However, it still isn't reaching epic proportions. A 4 chapter treatment on something I wouldn't mind seeing on the screen.

_**GRATITUDE:**_ With everyone writing or busy with life (including myself), I have gone back to read-only beta requests. And thankfully neither of them has killed me for the way I keep leaving the story when I send it to them in a fit of writer's neuroses. Oh, there have been death threats, questions about my parentage, and exclamations about my temperament, but so far the Grim Reaper has not darkened my door. Heaps of thanks and cyber-hugs to these lovely ladies for keeping me as sane as possible while the bunnies nibble on my gray matter!

_**REVIEWS:**_ Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

The drive home after shift had become his least favorite activity since the day Sara walked away from him. He dreaded it in so many ways, not the least of which was the look on Hank's face as he entered the door alone. While the dog was always happy to see him, he would quickly get over it to stand watch at the door in the hopes that Sara would soon follow. She never did.

For two years, mornings were his favorite time of day. The shift was over, and work was put away for another day. But most importantly, in the morning, the charades were put away and his life was full of the warm comfort offered by his relationship with Sara. For the first time in his life, he did everything in his power to walk out of that lab when the work day was done, because life was waiting for him at home. When Sara left, she took all of that with her.

No matter how much she tried to assure him that she had not left him, he was still alone, and she was nowhere to be found. He got quick phone calls, brief emails, and the occasional letter, but they were not Sara, only the trail she left behind. Regardless of how many scenarios he ran through his mind, hoping to prepare himself for the inevitable day she would walk away, he never once imagined that it would be so very difficult to survive without her. And he had an excellent imagination.

His greatest frustration came from the fact that there seemed to have been nothing he could have done to prevent it, that it was through no real fault of his own. Or at least, that's what Sara kept telling him. He still had his doubts about the veracity of that argument, and he always would. There simply had to be something he could have done to prevent her from leaving that way, but the answer continued to elude him.

As he turned the last corner onto his street, he decided he was in no mood to pull into the garage and once again see her car there gathering dust. Settling the car into the visitor parking out front, he slowly climbed out. Feeling every year of his life as he stiffly walked to the door, he wondered if this was what it felt like to carry the weight of the world.

After stopping to grab the mail, he ambled toward the door, becoming preoccupied with the list of articles on the front cover of a psychology magazine Sara subscribed to, and tried to take comfort in the fact that she had yet to change her mailing address. After several months, the stack of unread magazines and journals was mounting. He had been forced to put them, and her other mail, into boxes; one for each month, but he kept them waiting at the front door, stacked in a corner. It was almost like an altar for his hope that she would someday return to him. Every time he opened the lid to place the mail inside, he said a prayer that the next time he would be placing the mail in her hands instead.

Still looking at the mail, he withdrew his keys and prepared to unlock the door. The moment the keys jangled from his pocket he could hear the huffs and sniffs of a very anxious boxer on the other side of the door. A barely visible smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he looked away from the magazine and he thought about his trusted and faithful companion. However, as his gaze focused on the door in front of him, he found an envelope from an off-strip hotel taped to the center of it.

Instantly dropping the keys, he reached out and pulled the envelope down to tear it open. His haste came from the recognition of the handwriting on the paper; it was Sara's. Ripping it open, he quickly scanned his surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, a sign that she was there, somewhere. When he found none, his eyes zeroed in on the note contained within.

_

* * *

Gil- _

_Can you take Hank to the sitter's and meet me The Apple Martini? I'll wait there until 1PM. I don't have my phone with me. _

_-Sara

* * *

_

His breath was firmly lodged in his chest, as though his lungs had suddenly filled with concrete. He dared not move a muscle, fearing that the whole thing was only a mirage, or a carefully crafted hallucination brought on by too many doubles and not enough sleep. Not until Hank's deep and distinctive bark broke through his consciousness was he able to tear his focus away from the note.

Finally taking a deep breath, filling his lungs until his ribs painfully expanded, Gil shook his head and tried to make sense of what he was about to do. In his hands were the mail and the note. His keys were lying on the ground at his feet, and a few inches from his right foot was the envelope. He stared at those items on the stoop, as though he willed them to give him the answers he needed to decide his next move.

Taking another deep breath, he played through a dozen scenarios in his head, but Hank's insistent howl on the other side of the door gave him the only answer that mattered. In a flash, he gathered up the keys, tucked all of the mail under his arm and reached for his cellphone as he struggled to open the door.

"Yeah, Cindy? It's Gil Grissom… Do you have room for Hank this morning?" Pushing through the door, he fought to hold onto the mail and the phone when his canine housemate jumped up and tried to greet him. "Thank you. The relief poured out with his expression of gratitude. "I ah, need to take a shower, but then I can drop him off… See you in about an hour?"

Sighing as he bid the woman goodbye, Grissom let Hank out the back door and leapt into action for the first time in months.


	2. Chapter 2

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

_**RATING:**_ M for Mature (adult situations)

_**SPOILERS:**_ Through the US Aired Episodes

_**PAIRINGS:**_ GSR

_**STATUS:**_ WIP (2 of 4)

_**SUMMARY:**_ From the glimmers of grief, Grissom begins to see a possible light in the worst darkness of his life.

_**A/N:**_ And as promised, here's Chapter 2. I've got a busy weekend, so it might not be until late Sunday before the next chapter is posted. I also want to make sure someone else can read over it when I'm done polishing it, since it's a little bigger, and very important. Thanks for the patience and the wonderful feeback!

_**GRATITUDE:**_ With everyone writing or busy with life (including myself), I have gone back to read-only beta requests. And thankfully neither of them has killed me for the way I keep leaving the story when I send it to them in a fit of writer's neuroses. Oh, there have been death threats, questions about my parentage, and exclamations about my temperament, but so far the Grim Reaper has not darkened my door. Heaps of thanks and cyber-hugs to these lovely ladies for keeping me as sane as possible while the bunnies nibble on my gray matter!

_**REVIEWS:**_ Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

* * *

**Chapter 2 **

After running through no fewer than six yellow lights, dropping Hank at the dog sitter's, and then proceeding to blast through a couple more yellow lights, Grissom finally arrived at the bar where Sara asked to meet him. When he got there, he remembered why he knew the place, and as with most of his life, it related to a case. However, his more common use of the place was spent with far better company.

The Apple Martini was an out of the way lounge frequented by locals. It was not a Las Vegas attraction. It was the perfect place to sit in quiet anonymity to wash away the evils of the day in a drink. The low light, the tables along the back wall with almost no light, and the jaded outlook of its regular patrons also made it the perfect place for not being recognized when you were hiding a budding relationship away from the world. But they had not met there in nearly a year. 

He desperately tried not to focus on that, or the implications it made about the status of their relationship, instead he concentrated on the fact that Sara was back in Las Vegas and she wanted to meet with him.

On his second trip around the block he finally found a parking space. He also noticed that the hotel listed on the stationary was just down the street from the bar. With those additional pieces of information, his suspicions had been confirmed; Sara had checked into a hotel instead of coming home to him. His ability to continue thinking positively was greatly reduced with this newest realization.

Searching his mind, he tried to find an answer to the question that would not break his heart into a million tiny, irreparable fragments spread out across the vast universe, never to be whole again. Even thinking about it made his chest tighten, and he was sure that he could feel pain radiating down his left arm. His logical mind told him it was only the anxiety, but the rest of it screamed at him to run away from the heartbreak waiting for him inside that lounge.

Though fear and logic were at war within his mind, his overwhelming curiosity won out over them all, and he continued to put one foot in front of the other until he reached the doors to the bar. Taking a deep breath, his eyes closed, he struggled for the courage to walk through the door. One more breath and he said a silent prayer that the world would once more be set right before finally opening the door to enter the lounge.

Outside, the bright light of a late Las Vegas morning forced his eyes to restrict the pupils, but with the door closed behind him, he was thrust into a world of darkness and shadow. He stood still with the disorientation of sudden blindness and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the bar.

Once he was able to make out the shape of the bar, he looked to his right and found the first table, thus preventing himself from falling over it as he stepped forward. With his eyesight properly adjusted, he quickly began to scan the room for that painfully familiar face; the one he saw whenever he closed his eyes.

At eleven in the morning, there were few people in the bar, but he still found it difficult to find her there. Moving to the back of the room, he continued to search for her, but she seemed to be missing.

He must have appeared out of place and desperate, because the bartender looked up from the glasses she had been washing and noticed him standing there. "Hey there… Didn't see you come in. Can I get you-" She stopped as he moved closer to the bar itself and into the faint light emanating from behind it. "Boy, she sure wasn't kiddin', honey… Those have got be the bluest eyes ever created on earth, sweet stuff."

Completely taken aback by the woman's forwardness, he could only sputter and fidget under her gaze.

She chuckled at his difficulty and started fishing around through a bunch of paper at the register. "Well, I guess she only got it half right… You got the ocean blues, but you're fallin' short on the silver tongue thing, sweets. But that's all right, you're still pretty cute." Shaking her head, she kept trying to find something as she continued to speak, "Now if I can just find that damn note, you'll be able to get the hell out of this dive."

Slowly he struggled to regain his composure and tried to find out what was going on. "Ah, I'm sorry… I was here to mee-"

"Right, honey. But she finally got a call from those numbskulls at the airline. Poor thing's been waiting since last night with no luggage, and no wallet. Thankfully she had enough cash to make it here, and that ole Manny was tending bar last night. Been sweet on that kid since she got that lowlife attacked his baby girl a while back."

She stopped her rapid-fire delivery to exclaim as she found the card, "Ah Ha! I knew it was over here." She handed him the card and kept going, "Anyways, Manny knows the guy over at the Double Diamond, and he keeps a clean place, so Manny got the guy to set her up with a room. Poor thing was fallin' down tired by the time she got here. But when she woke up, the kid at the desk said she couldn't have any phone calls unless she had a credit card, so she came over here to be able talk to the idiots at the airline, and wait for them to call back when they found her bags."

He looked down at the card, trying to understand any of what was happening. On the card he found Sara's handwriting, but before he could read the words, the woman behind the bar started talking again. "So, I let her borrow my car to head out to McCarran and pick up her bags, because those cheap bastards wouldn't deliver 'em. Even using that bus thing, she'd already gone through the cash she had on her, and I wasn't goin' anywhere, so I just let her take my car again. But she said to give you that if ya came by to see her. Told me I wouldn't be able to miss you, 'deep ocean blue eyes' she said… Said you'd be a sweet talkin' thing, too, but I guess it's a little early for that one, huh?" She ended her rambling speech with a well placed wink, which forced a little more color into his cheeks.

The words were still not coming to him, but he did manage to say, "Um, thank you?" It came out more like a question than the expression of gratitude he had intended.

"Don't worry about it, sweets. You just go and take care of that poor girl now. She looks as lost as you do, honey." She tossed the towel over her shoulder and left him with a knowing smile as she walked into the backroom.

Still gripping the card in his hands, the darkness made it impossible to actually read, so he slowly walked back out of the bar. He was desperately impatient for his eyes to readjust to the harsh light of day, and he kept squinting at the note until he began to see Sara's barely legible scrawl once more.

_

* * *

Gil- _

_Sorry, had to run. Meet me at the hotel. Be back soon. _

_-Sara _

_Double Diamond, Room 4242 _

_

* * *

_

He walked back to the car in a daze. not completely sure about what had happened in the bar, other than Sara had to leave, possibly to go to McCarran for her bags, and she seemed to be having some kind of money trouble as a result. The rest was nothing but a blur of fast talking, gum smacking barroom banter that became lost in his mind as he tried to understand where he needed to go to find her. The card explained it all, and yet nothing at the same time.

Perhaps the answers could be found at the Double Diamond. Knowing that it was just around the corner, it seemed pointless to waste a perfectly good parking space, Gil began the walk to the hotel. In reality, it was not far, but in the realm of his anticipation and fear, it was an interminable distance of time and space. His entire future was waiting for him at the end of this walk, and he still had no idea what that future might hold. He only knew who held the keys.


	3. Chapter 3

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

_**RATING:**_ M for Mature (adult situations)

_**SPOILERS:**_ Through the US Aired Episodes

_**PAIRINGS:**_ GSR

_**STATUS:**_ WIP (3 of 4)

_**SUMMARY:**_ From the glimmers of grief, Grissom begins to see a possible light in the worst darkness of his life.

_**A/N:**_ I ended up stuck at home today, so I was able to post this early. That being said, don't expect the last chapter until Monday or Tuesday at the earliest.

_**GRATITUDE:**_ With everyone writing or busy with life (including myself), I have gone back to read-only beta requests. And thankfully neither of them has killed me for the way I keep leaving the story when I send it to them in a fit of writer's neuroses. Oh, there have been death threats, questions about my parentage, and exclamations about my temperament, but so far the Grim Reaper has not darkened my door. Heaps of thanks and cyber-hugs to these lovely ladies for keeping me as sane as possible while the bunnies nibble on my gray matter!

_**REVIEWS:**_ Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

* * *

**Chapter 3 **

The walk to the hotel was uneventful, which did not help to alleviate his anxiety. It was over far too soon, and he still had not come up with a single thing to say to Sara when he met her.

He wanted to be smooth, he wanted to be calm, and more than anything, he did not want to sound pathetic and desperate. However, those were the two things he felt more strongly than any other. His mouth was dry, his hands were clammy and he was fairly certain that his face was flushed as he felt his pulse quicken with each step closer to the Double Diamond.

Before he reached out for the door handle that would take him inside, he took a few deep breaths in the hopes that he could calm some of the nerves that were standing on end. It never worked, and today was no different.

Blowing out the last breath, he pushed through the doors and walked into the dark cool of the hotel's lobby. He quickly found the front desk and made his way through the simple entry to the hotel. As he looked around, he noted that it was nothing to write home about, but the bartender had been right; it was clean. There were no fancy trimmings in this hotel, but it was well kept, and Grissom imagined that it was probably one of the few affordable, independent hotels in Vegas that did not leave him feeling slightly dirty just walking into the place.

Approaching the front desk, he saw the young man behind the desk dutifully sorting through the paperwork for the day. Once he reached it, he was forced to clear his throat to disturb the man's concentration.

"I'm sorry, Sir…" He quickly jumped to his feet and Grissom was nearly convinced the person facing him from behind the desk could not have been more than sixteen. "Welcome to the Double Diamond. How may I help you today?"

Before he could answer the boy, a beep sounded from behind him and the boy instantly spun around to view the security map to determine where the beep had been triggered. The desk clerk sighed and turned back to face Grissom. "Sorry about that. I'm trying to make sure some lady doesn't stiff the hotel. The night guy made some kind of sweetheart deal with the woman, but I don't care what he says, I am not losing my job when the boss comes in and finds out she's here without paying."

The boy held up a plastic card in his tight fist and continued to explain, "I made her leave her driver's license when she tried to duck out on me first thing this morning after I wouldn't release the block on her phone. Boss always says, 'no credit card, no phone.' No matter what kind of arrangement the night guy had, I am not about to pay for his mistakes."

Grissom was finally beginning to put some of the pieces together. Removing his badge from his jacket pocket, he flashed it at the clerk and asked, "May I see that license?"

The boy's face practically went ashen with his question. "Look, Mister, ah… I-I'm not pressing any charges or anything. I just um-"

Nodding at the boy and gesturing for him to hand over the ID, Grissom explained, "I'm actually looking for someone, and I have a feeling that license belongs to her. Do you mind?"

With a trembling hand, the young man passed him the driver's license. "I don't want any trouble, Sir. Honest."

Looking down at Sara's very serious expression on her driver's license, Grissom was unable to stop the grin that turned the corner of his mouth. "This would be her. And there's no trouble." He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, withdrawing a credit card. As he handed it over to the desk clerk, he said, "Go ahead and put her room on this card, please?"

The young man cautiously took the card and asked, "Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't that look bad for you? I thought she was like one those escort people, or something."

He nearly choked on his own breath with the boy's assumption. "Hardly!" Without a doubt, if Sara had heard the young man, she would have come completely unglued. He handed the clerk the card Sara left for him at the bar. As the boy read the note he laid out the conclusions he had come to. "My fiancé came in late last night, didn't have her wallet, phone or bags, and I was out in the field. Thankfully an old acquaintance was able to make arrangements for her until I returned. If you would be so kind as to put the room on my card, and activate a second card key, I can leave you to your work."

Carefully considering his options, the clerk struggled to come up with the right decision. "Since you are a cop and she did give you the room number and everything..." He finally brought the card over to the reader, but stopped to ask a timid question, "You wouldn't mind if I write down your badge number and call to verify who you are, would you?"

Grissom smiled and pushed the badge closer to the boy so that he could read the numbers on it. "Not at all, and that is a very responsible request to make. Thank you for that."

Once all of the business was attended to, Grissom took the card key and made his way to the fourth floor via the elevator. He was somewhat apprehensive about letting himself into Sara's hotel room without her knowledge. It was an especially daunting assumption, given the fact that he was still unsure about the status of their relationship. His only hope was that she would simply be grateful to be done with the overeager young man at the desk.

As he approached room 4242, his pulse had quickened once again and as he reached out with the card key he felt the slickness of his sweaty palms. Fumbling with the card, he took another of those pointless breaths and tried to steady his hand to operate the lock. When the light finally flashed green he turned the handle pushed open the door.

The room was just as unremarkable as the rest of the hotel, but also seemed to be just as clean. When he saw the bedspread on the floor, and the disturbed sheets, he took comfort in the fact that at least Sara had gotten a little rest while she was there.

He walked around the room and found not a single trace of Sara in the room. The only thing to indicate that it was her room was the hand towel on the bathroom vanity. It was folded over lengthwise in half, and then folded again at the two thirds mark from the right side where a disposable toothbrush rested. It was a strange habit, but he recognized it as distinctly Sara, and it made him smile.

The waiting soon became unbearable. He watched the time slowly tick away, first from the chair with the footrest beside it, and then at the desk chair as he fiddled with the pen and papers there on the table. Several times he tried to sit on the bed and appear comfortable, but it never worked. He felt like it was a violation of personal space each and every time.

After his last attempt at sitting on the bed failed, he nervously paced around the room until something on the incredibly short balcony caught his eye. As he moved to open the sliding glass door, he finally recognized the item. It was an ashtray sitting on the rail, and there were a couple of recently extinguished butts in the tray. When he flicked at the evidence of Sara's relapse in her quest to give up the habit, he realized that he was not alone in the frustration with their separation.

Out on the excuse for a balcony, he became lost in the view and his memories. From his vantage point he could see the edge of the Hotel Monaco, and just the sight of it sent him back in time. He remembered his mind being in twenty places at once as he attempted to deal with a battlefield promotion, the assault on one of his CSI's, possibly losing Warrick because of the incident, and investigating a suspicious death at a major hotel.

After breaking the news to the team, he felt like he was flying solo, as though there was no one there for him and he had no idea who to trust. As he tried to lose himself in the science of the jumper case, he just wanted to push everything else out for a little while, and the trajectory experiment with the dummies seemed like just the thing. But each time a dummy crashed into the ground he flinched inside. It was almost as though each impact represented one of the burdens being heaped upon him as a result of the Gribbs case.

The weight of those burdens was heavy on his shoulders as he recorded the positions of each dummy. There was only one thing, in the very back of his mind, that was providing him any comfort, and when he heard the amused lilt of her voice behind him, he knew where that comfort came from; _"I don't even have to turn around. Sara Sidle."_ And with those words, he felt his heart beat with something infinitely better than pain and regret. However, it was the broad and vibrant smile he found on her face as he turned around that gave him joy.

Unfortunately, that joy was short-lived. He quickly realized what a selfish and wholly unfair request he had made of her. His new position kept him from even continuing their friendship, and he was left with nothing to offer her other than a job. If he was honest with himself, he had known from the beginning that he was asking her there for his benefit and not hers. And it was that truth he spent the next five years punishing Sara for.

His shoulders sagged as he admitted that in his thoughts. It was a knowledge that he always kept tucked away in the darkest recesses of his mind. For years he told himself that he was protecting her from the gossip, from wasting her youth on him, from him. But he had always known that he was really protecting himself from the reality of her. If he kept her at arm's length he never had to feel the sting of her rejection, he never had to know a world without her again, and he never had to watch her walk away because of him.

In the end, it was not his pain or his fear that moved him from his long standing position. It was watching Sara spiral downward, cutting herself off from everyone and everything, and then seeing how she was able to pull herself back up and become an even stronger and more capable investigator. But it was the peace she seemed to find after her ordeals that told him he had done her a disservice. And when everyone was given a horrifying dose of mortality in the course of Nick's abduction, he was finally able to break out of the fear and risked the pain of rejection. He knew then that the pain of never knowing the truth was worse than anything else.

Life since that day was a new era in his world. He had found the light. It was the same light that made Sara his only choice when Holly Gribbs was attacked. It was the light that guided him through the Debbie Marlin case. It was the light that helped him to survive the horror of Nick's abduction. It was the light that he wanted to protect when he left on sabbatical. It was the light he was desperate to find out in that desert when someone tried to steal it from him. Feeling the warm sun on his face, he closed his eyes to the daytime view and tried to see that light again. The image of her bright shining smile, and that amused lilt in her voice sang in his ears.

"That's me."

His heart lifted with the memory, because it was so vivid in his mind that he could feel it tickling his ears.

"Yeah, Mom, it's gone. I went through the bag at the airport and there's nothing there." He spun around when he realized the sound was actually coming from behind him. He could hear someone fumbling at the door, but he was frozen in place, staring at the closed door.

"No, I'm serious. My wallet is not in the bag, and I've still gotta deal with that desk clerk before I can get out of here." The sound of a heavy bag dropping to the floor interrupted his thoughts. "Well, I wasn't planning on checking the bag, but since I was late getting to the airport, there wasn't any room for my carryon and they took it from me at the plane." He heard the card key slide in and fail to disengage the lock. "Yeah, if only that wonderful flight attendant had actually gotten my bag on the plane… Yeah, they left it in the gangway, which is why I didn't have my bag when I got here. Or my wallet, or my cellphone."

The card was pushed into the slot again and he could hear the lock release. "A huge mess is an understatement… No, I just barely got my phone charged enough to call you…" The handle turned and the door barely clicked open, but she stayed on the other side. "I don't know yet… I need to finish charging my phone, and figuring out how I'm gonna deal with the hotel, and then I'll worry about what a mess I've made of the rest of my life. Is that okay with you, Mom?"

The door opened a few inches and he could hear her grunt as she picked up the suitcase. "No, I'm sorry. It's just-… Yeah, thanks, Mom. I will… As soon as I know what's up, I'll call, okay?" Her exasperated sigh was the next thing he heard. "No, I do not have a cigarette in my mouth… I sound like that because I'm trying to get in the door with my bags and my phone is pressed to my ear, that's why."

Sara shuffled into the room and the heavy door closed with a thud behind her. His eyes drank in the sight of her the instant she appeared through the doorway; her wild hair pulled loosely into a very messy ponytail, her clothes rumpled and obviously slept in, and still she was beautiful to the point that he was absolutely captivated by her appearance.

Continuing to talk on the phone, she dropped the heaviest bag and stepped forward. "Mom, I said I would quit again and I will, but you've gotta cut me a break right now okay? I'm trying to-" She looked up and found him staring straight into her eyes and it stopped her cold. He could hear the harried voice of the woman on the other end of the line, but there was nothing else in his world in that moment. And the moment seemed to go on forever.

When Sara finally blinked, she shook her head and tried to re-engage the woman on the phone. Her voice was different when she spoke, "Ah, Mom… I need to go. I'll ah, explain later… Yeah, I love you, too. Bye."

Still frozen in place, he could only stare at her face as he fought to find the breath to speak. He watched as she closed the phone and swallowed an unseen lump in her throat.

The stalemate was finally broken when she pushed a strand of hair from her eyes and simply said, "Hi."


	4. Chapter 4

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

_**RATING:**_ T for Teen (Mild language)

_**SPOILERS:**_ Through the US Aired Episodes

_**PAIRINGS:**_ GSR

_**STATUS:**_ Complete

_**SUMMARY:**_ From the glimmers of grief, Grissom begins to see a possible light in the worst darkness of his life.

_**A/N:**_ I'm pretty sure I've got the plague at this point. At least, that's what it sounds like when I start hacking up organs. Hence this chapter taking me so long to write. Deepest apologies to all my betas (even the pinch hitter with a wicked right THWACK!), but you will no doubt notice that the rating has changed on this story. The original plan included some mild smut, but once it was finished, there was just no way to get it done. I will now crawl back into my hole and hope to see the sun tomorrow. Thank you all for reading!

_**GRATITUDE:**_ With everyone writing or busy with life (including myself), I have gone back to read-only beta requests. And thankfully neither of them has killed me for the way I keep leaving the story when I send it to them in a fit of writer's neuroses. Oh, there have been death threats, questions about my parentage, and exclamations about my temperament, but so far the Grim Reaper has not darkened my door. Heaps of thanks and cyber-hugs to these lovely ladies for keeping me as sane as possible while the bunnies nibble on my gray matter!

_**REVIEWS:**_ Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Time seemed to stand still, and it took several intensely silent moments before he was able to process that Sara had spoken. Eventually, he managed to get his mouth and his vocal chords to function again. "Hello."

He watched her head turn slightly to the side, but her eyes never left his as she tried to gesture at the door. "How'd you-"

With the presence of something tangible to apply his thoughts to his faculties quickly returned. "Front desk. I ah, took care of the bill and the clerk gave me a key card."

Sara's brow furrowed and he could tell she was not entirely happy with the situation, but he was fairly certain he knew why. "It's not what you think… I showed him my badge and the note you left for me at the bar, told him I was your fiancé and waited for him to verify who I was before he would give me the key." She was still looking at him with some confusion, and he began to question his actions. "I hope I wasn't being presumptu-"

"No, it's not that." He could see that she was trying to relax her posture, but there was still an unease that worried him enough to keep him fixed to his spot at the window. "It just worries me that it could happen to anyone. Someone should probably talk to the manager abou-" She stopped herself and shook her head, as though she was attempting to clear the thought physically. "Sorry…didn't mean to go off on a tangent." Her smile returned and she said, "I'm glad you came."

He basked in the warmth from her smile for a moment, letting it soothe his haggard soul. Wanting the moment to last as long as possible, he simply nodded his head. However, the spell seemed to have been broken as he watched Sara nervously glance around the room.

For some unknown reason his brain chose curiosity to break the painful stalemate. "Though I'm not really sure why I'm here." He knew the instant he saw her hurt expression that it had come out wrong. "Why we're here, at this hotel, and not at home?"

Sara seemed to accept his qualifying questions as she slumped her shoulders "That was my plan." Dropping her purse to the floor in a heap, she went on, "But I had shoved my purse into my carryon after paying the cabbie, because I didn't want any trouble getting through screening since I was already late getting to the airport. And when I got to the gate the jackass flight attendant told me the overhead bins were full so I'd have to check my bag. There just wasn't time to pull everything out again, and I assumed they would load it straight onto the plane from there."

She paused for a moment, trying to get a handle on her obvious irritation, so he gave her a chance to regroup. "And I take it that was not the case?"

"Hardly! Moron left it on the gangway, and didn't even tag it so they could figure out where it belonged. The only reason they found it at all was because _someone_ registered the serial numbers he had put on the case in some travelers' database for me." He knew exactly which someone she was referring to and it provided him with a tiny feeling of pride. 

However, he was still confused by her actions. "But the notes…why didn't you just call me? I could have taken care of all of this last night."

Sara began to fidget as she spoke, "The only thing I had was my ID and some cash. How was I supposed to call you?"

"Go to a pay phone and dial the number?" It seemed like a logical process to him, so it eluded him as to why she failed to make the connection.

Sara shook her head and chuckled anxiously, "I didn't have my cellphone or my day planner. And while I realize that in all other situations relating to numbers that I am extremely proficient, I haven't actually seen your phone number in the last ten years, so there's no chance I'd remember what it is."

He could see Sara's frustration in the way she chewed on her finger, and the gawky gestures she made while talking. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and end all of this talking with a kiss, but the part of him that was hurt would not allow him to move.

The hurt made him spit out, "But you knew the number to that bar?" It was not his intention to sound defensive, but that was exactly how it came out.

"No… But I could look it up in the phone book."

"And you couldn't find the lab's number that way?"

She laughed outright with that question. "Right! Like I didn't create enough of a scene when I left, I'm gonna call the lab so that the entire department knows about it before the receptionist even gets the transfer call from PD? No way. I think I've done enough damage already, Gil. I certainly don't want to screw things up anymore than I have. I never want to do that to you again."

"They don't list the lab's direct number?" He was surprised by that piece of information.

"No, and I double checked, just in case, because I do actually remember your extension."

"Okay…" He was still trying to process everything, and the best way to accomplish that was to ask questions. "Then why didn't you just wait at the house?"

"On the front step? With the dog barking at me? In the middle of the night? I didn't have my keys either. If I had tried that, I'd have gotten picked up by patrol for sure, and that sure as hell would've created a **_huge_** stink. Brass is pissed at me enough as it is." As she explained, it all started to make sense, even if he had not been able to see it upon first inspection. But her last comment puzzled him and once again he was frozen by doubt and confusion.

"Why is Brass upset?"

"Besides the obvious?" She seemed to try and shrug off his question, nervously pacing back and forth, but he held firm. "He's not happy with the way I left. And he thinks I've been unfair to you."

"I don't understand… Why would he say that?'

"He's your friend, and I guess he thinks it's his place to defend you." Despite the uncertainty he felt with her revelation, Gil decided it was best to discuss that business with the source than to continue questioning Sara about it. There were other questions he needed answered.

Forcing his trembling hands into his pockets, he took a steeling breath. "What was your plan?"

Stopped dead in her tracks by his question, he watched her whole body tense up before she turned to look at him. In her eyes, he was positive that he saw proof of her infinite sorrow. "My plan?"

More from fear than any other emotion, he remained as stoic as possible in the face of such sorrow. "You said that going to the house was in your plans… What plans?"

When she failed to answer him right away, his nerves got the better of him and he clumsily asked, "Was I in any of those plans?"

As he watched the hurt filling her eyes, he cursed himself for letting his anger and doubt lash out in that way. He could see her burying that pain as she tried to answer him, and it only made him feel worse.

Her response was like a dagger in his heart. "I deserved that." He was about to step forward and apologize, but she held up her hand and stopped him. "It's okay. I know what I did hurt you, and you have every right to be angry with me."

"I'm not angry at you…" He choked on his words, almost questioning if he believed them. "I'm angry with this whole screwed up situation. And I hate what it's done to us."

There was a solemn silence that followed his admission; he with his head bowed in sorrow, and Sara with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. It was as though they both needed some time to grieve for all that they had lost.

Eventually, the silence became too much to bear, and with more pain than he had ever felt before he asked, "Is this it? Are we really done?"

There was no answer, and so he finally worked up the courage to raise his head and look for one. What he saw would stay with him for the rest of his days.

Sara quietly wiped the streams of tears from her face and fought to put on a brave face when she softly offered, "If that's what you want." Before the façade could break, she turned and went to retrieve her bags from the floor.

His mind was reeling from her magnitude of her words. He was practically destroyed by her hushed acceptance of a fate he was sure neither of them wanted, and before he could return to his senses she was preparing to walk out the door. "I'll make all the arrangements, so you won't have to." He watched her hand rest on the door handle as she said, "I'll be at my mother's if anything comes up in the meantime… Just keep whatever you want-"

In an instant he had crossed the room to cover Sara's hand with his and stopped her from going any further. "What if what I want is…you?"

She leaned forward with a sigh and rested her head against the door. Her voice seemed so much smaller when she cautiously whispered, "Then don't let go."

If he had not been so close to her, he might not have heard the words. He gently took her hand from the door and turned her around to face him. Any lingering doubt he might have had was washed away in the glassy pools of her eyes.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a handkerchief and tenderly wiped the tears from her face. Her eyes closed with the feeling of his touch on her face, and he was able to catch a few more of those tears as they escaped.

When his hand cupped the side of her head, as his thumb absently stroked her face, Sara finally opened her eyes again to see him staring into her soul. "I don't want to let go. I never did."

"But…" There was a crack in her voice as she spoke. "I messed up, didn't I?"

He wanted to wish it all away, pretend like nothing else mattered, but he knew in his heart that doing just that was probably what had gotten them to this point in the first place. With a gentle shake of his head he spoke the truth of the matter for the first time, "In this case, I think we've both messed up."

Her confusion was plainly shown in her puzzled brow. "But I'm the one who left."

Smoothing out the expression with his thumb, he simply offered, "And I'm the one who let you." He ended the statement with a gentle touch of his lips to her forehead. "How about we call it a draw…go home and start over?"

Sara looked up with a start. "Really?" She quickly put a damper on her rising tide of hope, and he could see that she was struggling with his request, but then she asked, "Is that really what you want?"

Shaking his head he admitted, "What I really want is irrelevant, because it would only end us up right back in the same place again. But what I need is for you and I to make this thing work, together. Because I don't know about you, but I am completely miserable without you around, and I hate the person I become when you aren't there to pester me. I hate the fact that I can't smell your strange feminine concoctions in the bathroom. I hate that I don't find your slippers under the coffee table, or that my dog doesn't seem to think my coming home every day is enough anymore. But most of all, do you know what I really hate?" Without even trying, he had managed to ramp himself up into furious frenzy with his explanation.

As though she knew the answer to his question, Sara dropped her bags to the floor once more and wrapped her arms around his middle as she buried her face in his chest. He felt her warm moist tears staining his shirt as she held onto him for dear life. At first he was caught off-guard by her choice of action, but thankfully his subconscious mind took over and brought his own arms up to wrap around her, holding her even closer to his body.

After several minutes of just enjoying the feeling of her in his arms again, he finally finished his list. "I hated that you weren't right here when I needed you, or vice versa."

Without letting go, she turned her head so that she could speak. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix anything, and I've got a long way to go before making any of this up to you, but I need you to know how very sorry I am for the hurt I've caused you."

A long held gush of air escaped his lungs as he sighed. He was again filled with a desire to just forget everything and walk into the sunset, but to her credit, even Sara seemed to understand the flaw in that logic. "I know we won't solve anything today, and there's still so much we need to talk about, but do you think-"

When she stopped in the middle of her sentence, he looked down to find her chewing on her bottom lip. At another time he would have passed it off as merely an endearing habit, but he knew that she was struggling to find the strength to ask for help. It was her greatest weakness in life, and one that they shared. However, both were always very willing to offer it to another, and so he did. "I'm not terribly fond of life altering conversations in hotel rooms…so how about we get out of here and go home?" As she looked up at him, there were the beginnings of a smile at the edges of her mouth. "Besides, we'll only have the house to ourselves until five, and I know I won't be allowed to get this close once the master of the house returns."

Showing him once again that she willing to sacrifice herself for him, she tried one last time to give him an out. "Are you su-"

"Of nothing in my life more than this. Come home with me, Sara?"

With a genuine smile, she nodded her head before bringing it to rest on his shoulder. After a few more moments of quiet comfort, she pulled away from him and bent down to get the bags.

He stopped her by clearing his throat and reached for the bags himself. Handing her the purse he said, "Some things won't be changing, I'm afraid." Taking her suitcase in one hand, he opened the hotel room door with the other and gestured for her to precede him.

The blush on her cheeks was a welcome sight. Once in the hallway, she took his arm and softly said, "Yes, dear." And it was his turn to smile, as he enjoyed the warmth of her touch.

In the elevator down to the lobby, Sara looked restlessly around the confined space. At first he was concerned the claustrophobia had returned, but then he noticed that she kept fishing her cellphone out of her pocket.

He was puzzled by her dilemma. "What's wrong?"

As the doors opened up she asked, "Did you bring the Mercedes or the Denali?"

"The Mercedes, why?" Walking through the lobby, he was growing more confused by the moment.

"Oh… I'll just have to deal with it later." Sara shoved the phone into her purse as they exited onto the street.

Not willing to walk any further until he understood what the problem was Gil stopped in his tracks and asked, "Deal with what? What's going on?"

"My mother."

Shaking his head, he asked, "What about her?"

"She's been freaking out all night because I didn't call her when I landed."

He failed to see what the concern was about. "Freaking out how?"

"Oh, after I charged my phone enough to get it turned on, it popped up with like fifty messages. The last of which she was threatening to have me reported missing or abducted." Shaking her head, she went on, "And then I couldn't get her off the phone once I did call back. Tell me again why it's a good thing we're talking now?"

As understanding finally came over him, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, holding her to his side for comfort.

"All I wanted to do was get home and talk to you, and nothing worked the way I planned. What I ended up with was an hysterical mother, a nightmare with my luggage, my wallet and my camera stolen, and a pain in the ass desk clerk that probably wasn't even born before I finished high school." Her head immediately found a soft spot to rest on as the last of her rant began. "I'm tired, I look like hell, and I can only imagine how bad I smell right now. And a dollar to a nickel my mother is about to call the National Guard to come looking for me." Sara wrapped her arms around him and pitifully asked, "Can this day get much worse?"

Nudging her forward along the walk, he casually offered another scenario, "I could've been out of town and not gotten your note."

She swatted his belly and exclaimed, "Bite your tongue!"

On the drive home, Sara used his phone to call her mother, and the National Guard was placed on a stand down. With the midday traffic, it was a long drive. When he noticed she was quiet for far too long, Gil turned to find her head lolled to the side and sleeping soundly.

With the relative peace in the car, Gil's thoughts turned inward. He would never be able to adequately express his intense and boundless relief at Sara's return, but he also knew that it would not be without its problems. They still had a great deal of work to do, and a lot of pain to heal, but he was certain that they could survive anything, just so long as they were together.

He doubted that he could ever understand why Sara felt she had to leave the way she did, but he honestly believed it was not important to their relationship. The fact that she came home, the fact that he was waiting for her when she did, and their ability to find humor and comfort even in the bleakest of times, those were the things that were important now.

As he waited for the garage door to open, he looked over at Sara once more and saw a peace in her expression that had been missing for some time. It was not until that very moment that he realized just how much he had missed that little comfort; that when they were together, she felt safe and at peace. It was a mutual feeling, because at his darkest moments, she was always in his thoughts. She truly was the light that guided his life. And now he wanted to be that light for her.

Once the car was shut off, he turned in his seat and leaned over into the passenger side. He pulled a strand of hair out of her eyes and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. Watching her eyelids softly flutter open, he felt an ache in his chest as her eyes came to life before him.

"Hi."

Such a simple word, or not even a real word, but hearing it in her voice was greater than any symphony he had ever enjoyed.

"I fell asleep, huh?" There was a shyness in her words that touched him. He knew that she was still unsure about her status in this grand scheme, and it was to be his pleasure to wipe away any and all lingering doubt for her.

He stroked his thumb along her cheekbone and nodded. Before she could say anything else, Gil leaned down and delicately kissed her barely trembling lips. As he pulled back to see her closed eyes, he felt Sara's relieved and contented sigh pass from her lips to his and he simply said, "Welcome home."


End file.
